Just a not so Itty-Bitty Adventure
by TFPKOFanGirl
Summary: We all dream of being a part of the Transformers universe, it's our nature to want to escape, even if we don't always have reasons. But what if someone did get sent to the Transformers universe, would it really be all that we've written it to be? Or would reality come in and take over? Breann Siven learns this first hand, that maybe reality is more humerous than it lets us know.
1. Chapter 1

Introduction to Adventure

 **SunsetWater: I'm glad you liked it, and it really would be funny to see the realistic side of things if a person was sent to the Transformers universe. I want to thank you for the inspiration of this story, I hadn't known what to write but you gave me what I needed!**

 **A/N: If you read 'Just and Itty-Bitty Rant, you'll probably already know that this is going to be a story on the realistic side of a fan getting transferred to the Transformers universe. Before you think, BORING; don't lea ve yet, this is going to be fun and it's still very much a fiction, and will be unpredictable as it can get - anyone who's read my stories knows I like to twist things around *Looks away and laughs devilishly*. I think though that if someone did get transferred, would they really have all control, would they really know how to live, survive, and work it out? We'll through what can be depicted as reality, and see how it's really like to live in a world that's not our own, adding the fact that you may not end up as yourself.**

 **ENJOY!**

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To all of you who said going into the Transformers universe would be fun and easy. . . Screw you. I've been her for a while, and I can say without a hiccup that is has been about as fun as giving a cat a bath - even if it's had some upsides. If you want to know what's happened to me, I'll start at the beginning. But don't expect some Wonderland, Alice down a rabbit hole, drink some kind of 'Shrink Me' juice story. It's not that simple, in fact, if I drank anything at all, it was the complete opposite of shrinking.

Alright, deep breath. I'll start where it all began, my beloved bedroom that I oh so miss so much. I was sitting in my room, enjoying my lunch and a soda. I'd binged watched all of Transformers Prime over Spring Break and had only begun on my latest FanFiction after ending one of my other ones. It was about as enthralling as someone as mundane as me could get at - adventure was a magnet for the extroverted and I was the Introverted Sensitive Night Owl type, so I attracted the hope of adventure.

I was wrong to hope that I could escape to another universe, after all, I had a good life; good parents, good sibling, good job, good whatever else you can call good. I had no reason to go, no torturous thing. . . Okay, that ones a lie, but I had only begun to redirect the only control I had of my Panic Disorder somewhere else - complete organization of my room. Transformers, I loved it, but I'd begun to loosen my control on it, to have it as a fun extra thing to do instead of a way to control the parts of my brain that hadn't yet been taken over. So, whatever on that, back to the story.

In honesty, I wanted the experience, I wanted to see the Transformers for my own. They were amazing in the TV shows and movies and everything else. But that didn't always seem good enough, I wanted to see it in real life, to feel it, to hear it, to everything it. So maybe I was lucky when that wormhole opened, maybe I wasn't. I was sure it was a dream. . . Huh, maybe that's why I was so casual about it, because it was just some vivid dream I was having. I mean, I can't lie, I've had dreams about that exact thing happening to me, but just not so. . . Realistic. Anyway, going on with the beginning of the story. . . . . .

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The wormhole was tainted a navy blue, maybe darker, I couldn't tell. It was swirling so fast that any color in there was nothing but an ominous blur. It felt like a dream, it had to of been, because what were the odds of scientists making such things happen and then opening one in a civilians room? Neither of my family members worked for the government in such a way - well, my Uncle was a guard at a prison, but that's not as much techy as I'm talking about. So me, a mundane girl with an past, a present, and I pray to God, a future, shouldn't be dealing with something someone was secretly working on. Because if this was that, then surely MIB would be coming to erase my memory in the morning. I could act like I didn't know what they were talking about, but would I really want to.

A scream escaped my ridged throat as the swirling vortex of doom grew denser and, of course, louder. Any louder and I'd ask it to wake up my parents for me. I found little solace holding onto the base of my bed, it was breaking from underneath me and I could count the second when it would snap and I'd be vortex gumbo for who was waiting on the other side. I was blind, mostly self-induced, since I'd already learned for childhood what it was like to have the sharpened end of a pencil stick you in the eye.

My grip was growing weaker by the second, which made my stomach twist in epidemic knots the size of the hernia I was going to have when this was all over. I pulled my body closer to the end of the bed, and then I heard it, the fatal snap I'd been illy preparing myself for. The leg flew from the post and I clutched it to my chest, watching as my bed plopped pathetically to one side. The vortex was now making a ghostly wind sound and that was it, I blacked out. My mind escaped to temporary freedom until I know I woke up on the other side of something, probably being over looked by doctors. Well, that was the lucky senario, the other half was that I would be some portal experiment for the curious mind.

Either way, I was screwed and I knew it.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 **Unknown whereabouts**

 **Welp, life hit me, so here's two chapters for you guys!**

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Offline. . . Offline. . . Offline. . . Connecting. . . Online.

"Oh, my head," I didn't know how long I had been out, or even if I had just fallen asleep because of taking too many midnights. Either way, I was awake, and I felt like someone had threw me up three thousand feet into the sky and then drop kicked me back down to Earth. What a wonderful way to start off the morning. My eyes drifted up to the sky. Evening? Everything was dark, more tinted that way than naturally set. Well, whatever it was I was hungry and nothing was going to stop me from finding food.

My body refused to move, in fact, I felt as if every joint in my was locked.

Something flickered across my vision.

Mechanics locked. . . Functions low. . . Aquire energon. . .

"Energon. . ." The word, as natural as it had seemed before, sounded new. . . I, for a change, wanted it. No, I NEEDED it. The feeling was hunger, ravaging through me like wildfire. I had never once in my life felt this hungry, this deprived of something. . . Something so useless. . . So. . . Valuable. I needed Energon, I needed it more than I needed my stuffed turtle resting on my bed, more than than macaroni and cheese, more than anything. Somehow without it, I felt like I was going to die.

Laughter gurgled in the back of my throat.

Energon. . .

"Energon." It was hilarious, the thought that I needed something made up by someone who wanted to sell toys. "I'm delirious." My words sputtered out uncontrollably. "I'm going insane. This is a nightmare." I tossed my body to the side, with the only accomplishment of rolling my body onto my chest. I spat dirt out as it rose into my mouth and nostrils.

Dirt. . . Dirt. . . Dirt. . .

Why was that running through my head.

Crusty, dry, dirt.

I live in Seattle. There's no desert there. Ocean and beaches sure, but this was like desert dirt.

Systems running low. . . Energon needed. . . Offline in thirty minutes.

Maybe if I yelled, someone in reality would hear me and wake me, since clearly pinching wouldn't work.

"Heeeeeeellllllp." I sounded as pathetic as someone trying to find the remote. "Somebody. . . Anybody." I giggled girlishly. "I need somebody!" The tune rocked through my head until exhaustion drowned out the music with another line of systematic errors.

Audio reception. . . Offline. . . Energon. . .

Energon blinked bright green in then corner of my vision and I only realized that it was coming from a visor when dirt didn't encompass my eyes.

Why would I be wearing a visor in the first place? Dream, right.

"I'm stuck!" My voice was raspy from breathing in the dirt. I couldn't hear it, apparently the scrolling words had been serious, but I could feel it - the sand, scratching at my throat. "I. Need. Help!"

Energon fuel low. . .

"And Ernergern." I fixed my jaw and groaned. "ENERGON!"

Movement flickered to the right of my vision. I wanted to wriggle, do something to get whoever was coming's attention. Maybe it worked, maybe it didn't, I couldn't hear and all I could see was ominous movement and shadows. "Help-"

Vocalizer. . . Offline. . . All system malfunction in 23 minutes.

Oh, this thing was going to grind my gears. If I have to see one more notification, I'll crush the visor.

Shadows lurked over me and the evening shade turned into a midnight black. I could almost feel someone hovering over me, larger than me, probably here to kill me and use me as an experiment. The shadow lingered over me for a while, shifting back and forth, toward something else, someone else. I wanted to scream at them, but every time my mouth opened no words came out and I got a bowl of dust for it.

Optics. . .

Ya ya, I can guess this one, offline. I probably had twenty minutes or so left before my demise. But, maybe, if I could keep myself from getting any energon from that span of time, I'd wake up in my chair - probably drooling, but anything was better than this.

Something scooped my body up and if it weren't for me shutting down, I would've protested. No one carries me like a kid. No one. My body tingled as it was pressed against what I could only guess was a warm chest made of metal. If by any means this was really a dream, let it be my favorite character. Fingers clenched around my shoulder and thigh, making me feel like a baby who was crying and needed to be coddled. They were surprisingly gentle for being made out of metal, but my mind quickly escaped from that to the bigger issues. I was helpless, powerless, and I wasn't where I was supposed to be.

My nervous system shut down and the curled fingers disappeared, along with the warm chest, and I knew I probably only had about fifteen minutes until I went back home.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 **Away from home**

I think it'd been awake for over an hour now, maybe less, maybe more. My eyes were clenched shut involuntarily, but I think I had to thank the tight strappings around my eyes for that. I could feel something rubbing around my heel, a bandage, but it made a sound, so probably something I'd rather not think about. For most of the time that I had awoken two voices outside of where I seemingly was - wherever it was, I wasn't home - were bickering - I had to say, it was pretty entertaining. "Until our Leader himself tells me that I can't, I can and I will."

My ears hurt with their words, like an ice pick jabbing at them. Most of what they said I could barely understand.

"Now, please lower the field so I can tend to my patient." The voice wouldn't let up. I'd been trying to be as attentive as I could and from that I learned whoever it was, was extremely stubborn.

My whole entire body was in pain. Worse than before, much worse.

The second voice was more stern, and within five minutes he'd already bordered annoyed. His voice made my head worse. Maybe if I didn't think about it, I'd be fine. "I was told-"

"I don't care what you were told. I outrank you, officer, and if you would like your next checkup to be fast and painless, I suggest you do as I tell you." The bubbly voice had dropped a tone.

"You already were allowed to give her transfusions. Isn't that enough?"

Transfusions? Oh gosh, my head, again. I really wish I understood what they were talking about.

"It's not like she knows how to work her body, and even if she did, the pain she's in would render her incapable unless I give her medication for it." Shifting. "Besides, she's bound."

"By the ankle, that isn't enough for safety."

"Which is on a short chain."

"I won't move until word comes in from YOUR authority that you can enter."

"How many fraggin' times did I save your life? Maybe one to many."

Could they just shut up! I wanted to sleep, not think about voices and transfusions and stupid shackles around ankles.

"Alright, then I'll go to my higher up and bring him with me."

And what was with the cryptic messages? Seriously, I don't think I could tell anyone anything with where I was.

"And I won't move until you do."

"I'll be back down in less than an hour." I could hear feet tromping off toward some oblivion. They were different, aggressive, determined, metal.

I chattered my teeth before turning my aching head toward where the voices had been. At least I had that back, maybe. I tried moving my arm but it refused to budge. I grunted, hoping just to budge one little finger.

"Won't work. . ." The angrier voice spoke up.

I positioned my blocked eyes to where I thought he might have been. I wanted to say something rude, maybe sassy and sarcastic, but the inner workings of my brain forced me to be silent and timid. I wasn't, I swear, I just was nice until someone pushed the wrong buttons.

"So, uh," My voice creaked. "Why?" It still croaked from the sand rubbing it raw.

The heavy sigh - I expected as much. "Don't know. Don't care."

"I bet you do know." I smiled, at least I think I did - I couldn't really feel my face.

"If I did, I wouldn't speak to you," The poison that shot from his mouth hit me hard. What had I done to receive such treatment? Shackles, a guard, vile words. . . It's like I was living in shattered glass realm of my own world - where I didn't know exactly where I was, though I had a hunch.

"Why'd you refuse that guy?"

"Because I have orders."

"Do you always follow them?"

The dreaded silence, I had my answer.

I turned my head back to its original position and smiled again. "No more questions."

"Good."

"Do you have to retort everything I say?" I turned back head back toward the man. Again, silence and went back to rest.

Silence encompassed the room for what seemed like forever and day. My body hurt, more so because I couldn't shift it into a more comfortable position. I had a feeling it had something to do with a drug, but there was also something else about it that I couldn't quite put my finger on. The guard, for all I cared, had left, or died, or just knew how to play dead. He hadn't shifted either, and the only way I knew he was there was the occasional groan of annoyance that slipped him.

The feet came back, this time with reinforcements. The guard shifted, maybe standing at attention.

"Is this enough authority for you?" I didn't have to see to be able to know that whatever wall had been keeping me in was brought down. The feet walked toward me, and I couldn't lie by saying that my heart was speeding at an astronomical pace. Something wheeled toward me and I could hear a creaking groan come from the man sitting down in a chair. He was silent for a moment and I could've sworn that he wasn't breathing. Finally, he spoke. "Do you remember anything?"

I turned my head toward his voice and tried to initiate a sneer, but I worried it came out like a botched frown. "Is that a trick question?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Open Eyes**

 **ME: I'll leave this chapter up to tell you who has her ;) And don't worry, his story has only begun, I don't plan on it ending any time soon!**

 **ENJOY!**

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"Please, the last thing I would want to do right now is ask you a trick question." She heard fingers fiddling with tools, and she would bet with all her knowledge that the wheeled in thing was a cart with Doctor Dooms death tools on there. "Can I get your designation?"

"If you asking for my name," She paused and sighed. "Breann. Should I even dare to ask for yours?"

"Breann, that's a human name?"

"Err, ya," She turned her head more toward he voice. "It is human. I mean, I am human, so it would figure that I would have a human name."

The guard laughed. "Someone must've hit her head harder than you thought, Doc."

"Thank you," The second man quoted. "But your input in not needed."

"Okay, what is going on here?" Breann wished she could sit up and rip whatever was blinding her off. "If this is some long winded joke, I'm getting real sick of it, so if someone could just tell me what is going on."

She heard the medics hands slip away. "You think we should notify him?"

"Boss said he's unreachable. If were to send out a message that he could hear, anything else would be able to hear it - and I don't think we want uninvited guests." The guard's voice stiffened at the thought. Silence confined everyone to small thoughts and eager answers.

"Please, just tell me what's going on." Breann's stomach twisted in knots.

"You haven't been given clearance." The guard sighed.

"Does she look like a threat to you?"

"Fine, but if she goes off the handle, I'm putting all the blame on you."

Breann heard the medic scoot closer to her, his fingers wrapping around whatever was blocking her vision. "This'll pinch a little, and you'll have to take a while to adjust." His voice was raspier up close, almost like sandpaper were scratching his throat.

She heard a loud click and felt something pop against her ears. A low hiss followed and light poured into her vision. She groaned, her eyes squinting to get used to the light. "Am I being interrogated or what?" Her hands freely moved toward her eyes and blocked out the light.

"I had warned you."

"You could have warned me that the sun was staring straight at me."

She heard the chair squeak back to its position and she glance over to see a tall and bulky white form leaning closer to her.

"Be careful, Red, she might bite you if you get too close."

"Shut up, Grinder," The man, or thing as it seemed, leaned back.

Breann blinked, trying to fade out the blurriness to her vision. The paled man came more into view, and she started to notice that his skin wasn't as smooth nor put together. The more she could see, the more she saw skin all askew, gnashed with red and white and faints of black where it looked like the colors had been scratched off. "Oh heavens, my head." She knelt her head back, realizing that she'd been lifting it up to get a better view. "I must be dreaming," She chuckled. "Because if I were awake, I'd swear I just saw Ratchet."

"Glad to know I'm appreciated."

The guard laughed. "Well there's something that's a first for you," He calmed himself. "Someone actually compared you to Ratchet."

"Thank you, Grinder, I think I can hear well enough." The man across from her voice stiffened.

Breann closed her eyes for a few moments of silence, and reopened them to see her world had become clear. The ceiling was raised high, with one led light swinging from it. She could make out bars across from her, a light fuzzing from them. Beside her was a rolling table with medical tools and in front of her was an alien species she's only watched on television and seen in comics and books and fanfictions.

"She doesn't look so good."

Breann glanced over to the guard, a just as tall character with a bulkier outlook and gray as his color. "What drugs did I take?"

"None were in your system. I have to ask you, where did you come from?"

Her mind paid no attention to the question directed her way. Instead, she had began to notice that her own body was not her own. She was. . . Well, simply put. . . She was one of them. Her color radiated an an admiral blue, with cloud gray seeping through her cracked armor. "What. The. Heck." She breathed, looking up. "Someone needs to explain something to me, now!" She should've been feeling excitement, she was where she had always wanted to be, she was getting the experience she'd longed for. But despite all that, the only feeling she had was complete and shameless anger. "Where the hell am I!?" She grabbed for some of the medical supplies and lashed it across the room. "Who did this to me!?" She tried to stand up, anger over taking her. Her ankle caught against its inhibitor and she rammed face first into the ground. Red, whom she'd now figured to be Red Alert, helped her back up. She could do nothing but glare.

"You were found like this," He paused. "Are you trying to tell us that you are not Cybertronian?"

"I AM NOT ONE OF YOU!" She almost, almost, felt bad for screaming directly into his face. But he should have already known from her previous comments. "My name is Breann Siven, I am from Earth, and I am freaking human!"

"Okay, calm down, fleshy, I'll have someone check the databases." The guards words tried downing her out.

She growled and clenched her fists. "I'm not from here!" Her eyes met directly with Red Alerts. "I'm not from this universe. Where I come from, you are all fictional aliens who are seen in movies, tv shows, comics, and books - you're nothing more but imagination."

"I can assure you that we're as real as yourself."

Breann broke, tears bubbling over - the anger had shifted. "Then how did I get here?" She wanted her mother, badly. "I'm not supposed to be here, this is a child's dream that shouldn't be able to come true." She wiped her cheeks, trying to straighten herself up. "I just don't understand. And why am I chained to this bed? I'm not even a threat to my cat." The guard snorted, hiding a laugh. Glancing at Red he shrugged as if it should've been a natural reaction for everyone.

"Breann, I'm afraid I can't answer any of your questions," His eyes spoke it all, how sorry he seemed for her - all he knew she could've been a spy of the Decepticons playing them with fake tears. "But, I do know someone who might be able to."

"He's still comatose, probably won't wake for another eon." The guard quipped.

"I know, but I'm talking about his research," Red Alert stood up. "I'm going to go grab Ultra Magnus and bring him down, he'll assess whether we can free you from your bonds. I'm sure he'll take understanding to your situation, especially if Ratchet's notes live up to what I'm thinking." He tapped his chin. Standing, Red walked to the edge and out of the cell when Grinder lifted the bars.

"You'll need-"

"The notes, I know. Don't tell me how to live my life."

The guard croaked. "You tell me how to live mine."

"That's different, I'm certified." Red walked off with a hint of superiority in his step, and within moments the sound of his feet against the cold floor had disappeared behind a large door.

Breann turned to herself and curled her knees into her chest. Looking at the wall she sighed, holding back another set of tears. How many times had she imagined this moment happening to her, and look how it came out, her sobbing and screaming and being a complete idiot. Not to mention being thought of as a criminal for the other side. Her imagination, her false reality that should have stayed in its bubble. Now it was shattering, and she didn't even want to know how hard it would be to clean up all those pieces.


	5. Chapter 5

**Enemies and Friends**

After three hours of waiting, Breann had learned that her blinder had also been a cognitive inhibitor. Ever since Red Alert had taken it off, she'd been getting sporadic messages about After three hours of waiting, Breann had learned that her blinder had also been a cognitive how her vitals were normal, energon intake was up, and how much time had passed when he left her with the presence the guard who should have gotten a reward for how much he seemed to hate it. She'd tried talking to him a few times, and it fell absent to what she had imaged. In fact, everything was falling away, for starters, this shouldn't happened with her waking up in a cell chained to a wall. How had she not see it coming?

"Sir," The guard's slumped posture changed within seconds followed by a strict saluting to someone. Feet were coming down the corridor, larger, heavier, stiffer.

Breanne uncurled herself and sat at the edge of the bed. "Optimus Prime," She couldn't help the word from escaping her.

The guard hid a snort. "You're gonna wish." His whole being snapped toward the form that stopped just before the cell doors. "Ultra Magnus, Sir. Prisoner is still detained, she has not changed position since Red Alert left at 1300 hours."

"Thank you, Grinder, you may be relieved."

"Thank Primus," Grinder slipped out of the scene as quickly as he could without another word. Ultra Magnus on the other hand came closer to the cell and stopped before being zapped, his blue optics piercing through the light haze of electrified bars.

Breann curled her fingers underneath the bed, her eyes staring down the floor.

"You're not a Decepticon, and you're not human," She hated how he said it like it had been a blatant lie from her end. "So, what are you? A rouge, because we have no Breann in our database, even from our covert files of Cybertron." His optics narrowed in deep thought. "I've spent hours trying to find your name and status in this war, and I've found absolutely nothing. So either you're some kind of spy for another stealth quadrant that I have not realized more uncounted for bodies were still out there, or. . ."

"Ultra-" She heard a dark grunt come from the mech and she flinched. "Sir, I would never lie to any Autobot." She tried so hard to look him in the optics, but the feeling of being glared down like she were a failed experiment was demeaning enough. "I'm telling the truth, I am human, and I came from a universe where you're all just fiction." She held back the flow of tears. "I'm no Decepticon, I'm not part of some elite secretive group. . . I'm human. . . I don't know what happened to me, I'm just as lost as you are." That would have been a great speech, if it hadn't come out as warbled as it was.

"This isn't a case of a wrong turn, femme, especially not through some imaginary portal you've thought up for yourself." He turned to his side, his optics barely on her.

"Wait," She moved from the bed, having her chain removed hours ago since she apparently posed no threat to the guard. "You can't leave me in here, I'm not a Decepticon."

"You think we only still Decepticons in these cells?" He faced her again, his expression up close more stoic than she had imagined it being. "Until I find adequate information on you, you're an enemy to this cause and you'll stay locked up in here."

"I'm not Cybertronian Dang-fricket!"

His optic ridge raised. "Interesting cursing term."

"That's because I'm human," She pressed herself away from the bars. "I haven't lied. . . I mean, I've lied before, but I've never lied on big stuff like this kind of stuff. Not like it happened a lot, but I wouldn't lie, not to you guys. Even in my universe I considered myself an Autobot, why would I change that?"

He faced her and she stammered back. He was taller than her by at least another cybertronian her size, and although he was good at hiding his emotions, she could see anger boiling through. "Do you know where the Decepticon base is?"

Breann's optic flinched "I don't know! I would tell you if I knew, in a dam somewhere, in the side of a hill! I'm not the all knowing wizard." She flinched at the growl that escaped him.

"You claim be a human from a universe where we are fiction. That would conclude that you would know everything about us and everything about them. Am I wrong?"

"Well. . . You're right, but, your also not right." She scratched the back of her helm. "I only know what the directors and producers give me on television and what I or others can dig up. So, I don't know everything, but I do know a lot of things." She tried holding back the excitement of all she knew coming to her. "I know about Ratchet, how he died by human hands and how Lockdown took his spark out of his sparkchamber. I know that what he had used seemed to keep it alive, so that meant there was a chance to rescue him. Especially after Optimus sliced him in half and the Nemesis became the Autobots." She sucked in a deep breath and stared hopefully at him.

"You do know a lot. . ." Her expression lightened. "A lot that everyone else knows as common knowledge." He walked away and she glared down the hallway. "Another guard will be back in ten minutes."

"Oh come on! This isn't fair. I know you know I'm not against you guys, you're just being an aft!" The solid metal door at the end of the corridor slammed shut and she was left in silence. "Stupid oaf," She kicked the floor and slumped down unto her knees dung into her chest. Folding her arms over her knees she buried her face into the crevice, trying hard to stifle back even more tears.

In the background of her thoughts, she could hear someone walking up to the guard post. She didn't dare peak a glance, knowing that whoever it was, they would be as stuck up and rude as the last.

"Do you like stories?"

Breann blinked, her sniffling coming to a stop. She glanced one peak to see the guard had sat down at the post, one knee raised with his arm bending over it. He scooted to the opposite end of the cell so that he was facing her. She could see past her arm that one of his own arms was discolored from the rest.

"'Cause, I have a few if you like them."

She turned her back to him and groaned. "I don't care. But if this is some kind of joke, I'd rather not be a part of it."

"What? Grinder?" He laughed. "That dudes got a gear up his aft, always has. Wanna know how I know that? 'Cause we were fightin' buddies in the war. One mission though, but that's all it took for me to lose my original arm and him to lose all personality." His laugh bounced down the halls.

Breann turned her body back toward the wall and caught his glance with her own. "I'll listen to one." The mech went off on a tangent about a war story from when before Cybertron was about to become extinct. She didn't want to be interested, but he was the only one to show actual interest in her, besides her vitals. And, the fact was, was that his story was actually interesting.

Besides the nice feelings she could feel flowing through her, she kept her outside sterile. She didn't want anyone to think that they could really get to her. With how they were acting, she knew the instant they showed that, they'd use it against her. Sighing, Breann closed her mind off from all other thoughts and listened, and with that, she felt an ease wash over her, one she hadn't had for however long she'd been here.


	6. Chapter 6

Breann laughed, her head tilting toward Bromithus. "So you really took out a whole Decepticon army by yourself?" She had been listening to the guard for at least three hours know and she couldn't get enough.

"Don't forget my trust Minicon," Bromithus raised his servo a few feet off the ground. "That little guy was my helper and my entertainment. It helped that he had a glitch that whenever he saw Decepticon he'd go into some sort of beast mode and completely scare the oil out of oncoming troops." He shook his head and leaned it against the wall. "I miss him. . . That's the casualty of war though, not everyone survives."

"Wow," Breann scratched the back of her head and lowered it. "Y'know, watching you guys on TV, it didn't seem so. . . Morbid. I guess war just isn't pretty."

Bromithus turned to face her, his optics curious. "So you really come from a universe where we're fictional?"

"Ya," Breann faced him, her servo's holding onto her knees as she crossed her legs. "You were TV shows, comics, movies. . . I suspect I'm in something like the movie-verse."

They both kept silent for a few moments before Bromithus spoke up. "And you don't know anything about the Decepticons? Where they are, what they're planning."

"No, I would tell you if I did. . . But I honestly don't know anything. I wish Magnus would understand that, but he's more of a butthurt than I realized." Breanne curled her knees up to her chest and rested her head on them. For a while all she could hear was the faint buzzing of electrified bars and somehow over the time she was in here, it had become relaxing. Even though she wasn't on the outside, at least she was safe.

"Ultra Magnus doesn't want to let you out because we've had an incident like this happen before. . ." Bromithus sighed. "It was back on Cybertron, with the femme I believe you already know as Airachnid. She posed as a neutral who was wounded and an amnesiac. We put her in a cell like this one, Ratchet nurtured her back to health and then we let her roam free. Because of her we lost our base, our assets, and hundreds of lives from an unknown oncoming Decepticon attack planned and scouted out by her. All of this happened when Optimus was out at another fight and Ultra Magnus was in charge. He was the one to make the choice to set her free and we lost practically everything. Those of us who got out, which was around only fifty or so, were lucky to even have our lives. Most of us were even lucky to have our limbs unlike those not so lucky."

Breann looked up and let her legs loosen from their clench. "Wow. . ." She felt speechless and sick to her stomach. "I guess my world didn't know everything about you guys." Her legs rested down against the ground and she leaned back, her palms pressed against the cold ground. "So, I'll probably be stuck here for a while? Or forever. . ."

"Nah," Bromithus waved her off. "Ultra Magnus has to realize at some point that you're harmless. And besides, once the scouts get back from the spot that you showed up at and if they come up with any evidence that proves you're not a Decepti-freak, he'll most likely not have a choice but to let you free."

"When do you think that will happen?"

Heavy metel scraped at the floor and Bromithus stood up, saluting. Moments passed before Breann herself stood up at the sight of Ultra Magnus standing before her. She dared not to blink, feeling that if he were going to stare her down, she was going to do the same exact to him. After a moment he scoffed and handed a pair of cuffs to the guard. "Cuff her and then lead her to the med bay." He looked at her. "The scouts came up with nothing, but I don't want to be hasty in thinking she's innocent. You're going to get a Psych eval from Red Alert and then he's going to scan for any residual evidence that there was ever a Decepticon Insignia on you. If you come out clean from all our tests, I'll take the cuffs of, but you'll still be under supervision for a long, long time."

"Wow, forgive and forget much?" Breann scolded, holding her arms out as Bromithus opened the cell and held out the cuffs.

Magnus glared at her, and then turned his sharpness to the guard. "You and I, will be having a talk later on what you can talk to the prisoners about and what you cannot."

"Yes sir," Bromithus hid his head behind the shadow of the cell bars as he locked the last cuff and pulled Breann toward the hallway. She walked willingly, happy that she was out, and besides, she knew full well that they would find nothing, so it was a temporary hold for her. Magnus couldn't hold his hatred in toward her forever, since sooner or later he'd have to learn the truth.

They walked down the hallway and Breann was surprised to see that outside the heavy door was an array of sunlight that she was more than happy to see. Outside, humans walked around, paying no attention them as if they were nothing short of another, taller, one of them. Only a few looked up, but their gazes were far from awe, in fact, most of them looked deadbeat and ready to pass out. Only a few glanced up at her with curiosity, but they simply passed by without any words and then sunk their gazes back into whatever they had been focusing on beforehand.

The trek to the medbay was short lived and inside she felt like she was back in her cell. It was smaller than she had imagined it being, with one medical berth, a few machines that loudly screeched at her and some tools that looked like she had stepped foot into a medical horror film.

Bromithus kept her cuffs on, but walked outside the door and let it slide shut, leaving her alone with only one large light hanging overhead, its swinging motion creating moving shadows. At least now she had time to think, to ponder over what would happen next. Most likely they'd find nothing on her and let her go, but what if they had found something she hadn't accounted for. They'd never believe her to be one of them - sure back in her universe she felt like an Autobot with a bit of Decepticon inside of her. But hearing all those war stories from Bromithus made her rethink everything and feel nothing but disgust toward the 'Cons. They were vile and bloodthirsty and for the first time in her years of being a fan of Transformers, she saw the real side to it all, that it wasn't all guts and glory, but really, more of the guts and less of the glory.

"Is she inside?" Red Alerts voice made her look up. As muffled as it was behind the solid metal door, she could still make out the words.

"Yes," Bromithus's voice sounded stiff.

"Thank you. . . And tell Ultra Magnus when he returns that there is nothing to be worried about. I can already tell you that this femme is far from dangerous or as delusional as Airachnid."

"He won't listen."

"Typical, as always," Red Alert scoffed. "Well, don't let him in, he'll hinder her Psych Eval and mess up any results. I don't want his paranoia to rub off onto our guest." The door opened and he walked inside and the door shut once more. "Breann, it's nice to finally meet you with all your cognitive functions working. I believe you already know who I am from the stories that you tell and I want to let you know that I believe you." He sat down on a large swivel chair. "You were probably informed of what's going to go on here, so I'll just get going on it instead of going on about all the instructions that you probably already figured out." He grabbed a datapad and pen. "All I have to tell you is that I'm going to ask you a series of questions and I want you to answer as honestly as you can. Some will be multiple choice but most of them will be your own input. There's absolutely no right or wrong answer, I'm just making sure you're not a 'Con, which I already know you aren't."

"Will it take long?"

"Depends on if you're the short answer kind or pertain to essays more."

"Depends on the questions."

"Then we should get started then." He scanned his optics over the pad before looking up. "First one. Tell me everything you know about the Autobots."


	7. Chapter 7

How glorifyingly perfect it would be to stick her tongue out at Ultra Maguns as Red Alert sternly told him she was no threat. He seemed to be reprimanded through a series of glares from the med-bot, and she could see a lack of comfort riveting through him.

"I'll believe the psych evaluation, Red Alert," Magnus groaned, raising his servo to stop the mech from going on any further. "But a steady optic will be kept on our guest until further notice, I'm not losing our base to another Decepticon."

"Wow, I didn't know you would be so open about the past in front of Breann," Red Alert's optics widened. "An air of trust like that, takes decades for you."

"I do believe we can thank that to Bromithus, he told her everything."

The med-bot nodded. "It's all for the better. More secrets, more tension. And seeing that our friend here has told me all of her secrets, well most that she was willing to endow to me for the eval, she's all set on trustworthiness." Red Alert turned from Magnus and patted Breann on the shoulders. He was barely above her height, but still felt tall against her. "If you have any problems at all, medical or just," He shrugged his shoulders. "Anything, come talk to me." He smiled and left them, heading back to the med-bay.

"I'm not getting a tracker," Breann crossed her arms. "I know you were thinking it."

Ultra Magnus glared at her with offense. "You put little trust in me." His words groaned with observation.

"Just sharing the feelings," She felt sick, why had she just stood up like that to the Second In Command of the Autobots. For sure now he was going to put a tracker in her, or probably throw her back in the cell and tell everyone a portal sent her back home.

"Any such feat would have to be done through Red Alerts authority. He, after all, would be the one to follow through on the procedure. And seeing how much like he has put toward you as a new individual in this base, there would be no way for me to do so." He faced his back to her and began walking away.

Catching up, Breann tried walking side by side with him, but the ratio of their legs made her keep up with a slight jog. "So, you guys don't have some injection thing that you can do with a tracker?"

"Are you wanting a tracker put inside of you?" Magnus's optic ridge cocked.

Breann stopped for a moment, though, seeing how far he got from that, she began jogging again. "Heaven's no," She breathed. "But I just want to make sure I don't wake up with one."

"Our systems are delicate. Though we share vast differences with humans, we do have similarities. Such as, we have ways our energon pumps through us, and if we lodge something through those, we can suffer dearly. Our neurology is extremely complex as well, any tampering with it, such as sticking a chip within one of our neurological systems, would as well, cause extensive damage. As well, only certain places of our bodies are thin enough to allow messages of the tracker to be received and sent out - consequently, those thinner places are the most dangerous. Thus, in conclusion, only medical staff can attend to the procedure."

"For the strong, silent type, you say a lot of words."

He glared at her before turning off another way. She quickly followed but was cut off by a door sliding before her. "Okay, well, um. . . Thank you for letting me out of the jail cell!" Breann turned from the door and wandered off down the hall. She was utterly lost, but the place couldn't be that much of a maze.

Could it?


	8. Chapter 8

**Friend?**

HEY EVERYONE! Really long hiatus, and I do have reasons, which I have put up on my profile! I just wanted to let you all know, I'm still here and I'm hoping to really get back into writing my fanfictions! This story's plot is and will be coming more together soon, and I'm so excited for what lies ahead! I don't want to give too much of a lengthy explanation here, so ENJOY!

* * *

"Watch it!" Breann stumbled back, her optics lingering over a human who glared knives at her. That was the twelve time in the week she'd been out that someone had yelled at her. She, in a way, felt sick, how much these humans were like ants back home, scattering everywhere and small enough that she couldn't always see who was underneath her.

She'd always thought that a newcomer such as her would be an interest, and a popular one at that. But now that reality struck, she was simply some newbie who didn't know how or when to act.

"S-sorry," She stammered. The man was already gone, somewhere of to probably tell everyone that he could add himself to the small list of people she'd almost trampled.

Not only that, but the more she focused, the more walking became harder. Instinctly she knew one foot in front of the other, but within the reaches of her consciousness, she felt weird doing so. The more she focused on the act, the more she could feel metal grinding against each other to make the action possible. With that, she could almost feel the springs and cogs functioning to make even living functional.

In terms:

She looked fine, but she felt like a broken mess of odd parts.

"Maybe if you added a couple wheels to your pede's you'd find getting around easier."

Breann screeched at the voice, stopping in all her tracks. Glancing around, she noticed a tall shadow behind her and flipped around. Sideswipe stood over her, a giant even though she was now one of them. "I. . . I didn't know I was having a hard time walking."

He snickered. "You look like one of the humans when they complain about getting drenched. They walk like a'. . ." He glanced off to the side. "Ah, yes, a penguin."

She needed her hair, something to run her fingers through in embarrassment. She was sure she had looked fine, only felt like that. "I didn't realize. . . I mean. . . I'm sorry."

His brows peaked. "And what's that got to do with anything?" He swerved around her and she twisted, trying to catch up with him. "Has the big guy been scarin' ya? 'Cause if he has, I know a few pranks that'll get 'im, without gettin' us into any trouble."

"N-no," She waved her arms. "I'm good. . . I don't need anything on my mind like that. . . I just, I don't mean to be sorry, but this is so weird." She looked down at her feet. "I feel like a music box, except when you lift the lid, all the parts come popping out."

Sideswipe laughed. "That's a good one. Though, you do look like it. Like I said, wheels are great, and they make the ride so much smoother."

She felt her shoulderblade, reminding herself she didn't even have any to try out. "Well, I'd have to have some first, I mean, unless you've got some gravity repulsers o-on hand."d

"I wish, then I'd ditch these half rate human contraptions," He skidded a wheel across the ground. "Alas," his arm raised dramatically. "We are but aliens in this world, and what has become of ours, but ground dust and sadness?"

"Have you ever thought of trying out for the human theater?" What was she saying. She shouldn't have been so casual with him, he barely knew her and she him, complete strangers. She wished she had her human tongue again, so she could bite it as hard as she could, to keep herself from ever speaking again.

"Think I'm that good?"

"Eh, no," She smirked, feeling her body tense even more. Stopping herself from saying another word, she glanced at him. He was friendly looking, for the most part, other than where she could see years of war stacked behind his optics. He was interesting, and besides Red Alert, the only one who openly talked to her on the other side of her cell. Bowing her head, she sighed. Bromethus had been a nice talker, and she wished she had gotten to know him more, but unfortunately, the last she heard was Ultra Magnus had sent him off on some mission as punishment for not cooperatively watching her.

"Earth to once human, now cybertronian!"

Breann's head snapped up. "Sorry," She mumbled.

"No need to be, thought I lost you," his lips pursed. "Look, I was about to head to the track for some practice, want to come?"

"I can't, well, I mean-"

"You can't transform," He waved it off. "That's alright, I would teach you but you'd have to find an alt-form, and I'm sure Red Alert would have my head doing something that he would 'technically' have to watch over."

"I thought that was your thing," She snarked. "Doing what shouldn't be done."

"You're thinking of my brother, I'm the innocent one." He treaded off toward the main hangar where the one autobot exit and entrance was. "If you wanna come, I ain't gonna stop ya, but if you don't wanna, stay in here where the big boss is waiting to pounce on anything you do wrong."

Biting the inner of her lip, far different than flesh and fat, she nodded. She needed out, and no one had really asked her to go outside, and she never really had wanted to by herself either. Too many humans lurked out there, and everytime she walked by the open door, they stared at her like she was some wild animal who could attack and kill them at any second.

She walked the halls, lagging behind Sideswipe, for one she couldn't walk as fast as he could skate, and two, she wanted to make sure no humans got underneath her. Thankfully, the walk wasn't that far to the outside, and once they reached it, she noticed that there was a clear pathway from the pavement to the large expanse of field. On either side rested some basketball and volleyball courts, far enough from getting stepped on by any autobot.

It all made her feel a little more sick. If they courts were so far away, the people she had seen were purposefully staring at her like that. They had paused their game for her.

"'Beaut, ain't it?" Sideswipe swept his arm across. Looking up, Breann gasped a little. The track was huge, and far from the typical oval loop. This one had bridges and hills and passes and large obstacles - everything needed for a no trainer course.

"This is pretty cool," she mummbled.

"Start the timer, I want to see if I can break Crosshair's record!" He leaped onto the track, transforming and hitting it with a loud thump on the asphalt.

"I, wait, how-" He was already out of earshot before she could finished. "Fine, I'll do it the human way. . . One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi."

* * *

"Five-hundred and sixty-six, Mississippi," Breann yawned, her optics drooping. Sideswipe was already on his eighth time around the track, not even stopping to see his time nor get rest. Hearing the sound of switching metal, she looked up to see him beside her, barely out of breath.

"How long did it take me?"

"Don't really know, I kind of lost track after four-hundred and fifty-two seconds."

He frowned. "I thought maybe doing that would cheer you up," He hummed. "At least that's what Red Alert told me."

"Look," She stood up, feeling fatigued even more as she did so. "I don't mean to be rude - wait, you were set up?" Now she felt even more like a reclusive failure. She felt. . . Duped, wronged, and many other things. If Red Alert felt that way, why didn't he come and talk to her instead of sending the one who had more fun racing than socializing.

He shrugged. "Red caught me and said you needed someone to talk to, asked me to do it. Don't know why, guess he trusts me more than Ratchet ever would."

Sucking in a deep breath, she could feel panels shaking. "You're nice, or whatever, but sitting there watching someone else have fun isn't really, well, fun." She lent her hand out to the track. "And maybe Ratchet would have been right to not send you, you really don't talk that well." She walked off, tired and ready to pass out.

"Wait!" Sideswipe skidded in front of her, his eyes sorrowful. "I'm sorry I made you watch me, I should have included you, y'know, probably more than I did. Red just told me that you're still getting used to yourself, and I didn't want to push you past your limit." He scratched his neck. "I really don't know why he chose me, because he really, really, shouldn't have, I'm the last influence anyone needs in training. . . But he did, and I did try my best, and I'm sorry it wasn't good enough."

Breann felt a twinge of sickness slide down her throat. It may have been her exhaustion, but she swore she was hearing regret in his voice. Not at her, but at something he was hiding. Clenching her fist, she forced herself not to pry. "I get it, you're not a personable person. . . er, bot. I don't blame you, I'm like the weird girl who's come from recluse land into the new high school where cliques are a way of life. Think of the nobodies, nobody."

"That's not at all what I wanted you to think!"

She slid a smile over her frown. "Ah, it's okay. . . I'm pretty used to it." She walked past him to the hangar. She could see out of the corner of her eye him standing, watching her, then turning toward the sunset. There was something about him she didn't know, something she knows she hadn't watched or read. About them all, in fact. She knew absolutely everything about their lives, but personally, they were only fiction, barely a notch in the life of her reality, as much as she loved them.

Taking in another deep breath, she let it out as slowly as she could. Her room was close to the entrance, and a hair away from Magnus's, so he could keep a watchful eye and ear on her. Trust was most definitely an issue at this base, and she couldn't help but wonder, despite knowing unknown facts, what else lied behind the curtain. Whatever hopeful bubble she had set up for herself, it had already been popped.


	9. Chapter 9

"You mean to tell me, that not only you lost our most pivotal tool to our plan, but you brought the wrong one here! And with that, we cannot open another portal for five years?" Megatron raised his arm, ready to strike down his new, and useless, second in command.

"Lord Megatron," Barricade stifled back, not in fear, but to make sure that he was not tossed into a pulp. It was unwise for one to take on Megatron when he was angered at this point. "It was not my fault. Default was the one who had the quardinates of our tool. He input them wrong. That does not mean that this tool will be less useful, but we can utilize it in a different way." He looked up, lifting his optics to the, now slightly lowered arm of Megatron. Though it was still raised high enough he could handle out a terrifying strike.

"Then, tell me, Barricade, how did it get away?"

"I have no idea," Barricade took another step back, seeing Megatrons arm rise higher once again. "We raced to the quardinates it opened at, far from where it was supposed to. . . Near us. But it was gone by then. We believe the Autobots had sensed the great energon spike and decided to scout it out."

Megatron growled, his fist clenching in. "Get me back our tool, and bring me Knockout, I want to know how the rest of our progress on the other parts are coming. I will be expecting good news." He turned around without handling out a swat and Barricade backed away until he was out of his masters line of sight.

Turning around, he let out a deep vented sigh. Today was not a good day for any of them. Knockout, as he knew, would not have good news. The medical mech had only just arrived and was depleted of much energon when he'd done so. The past few weeks for him had been spent in stasis being revitalized with energon. Since he'd been out, he'd only been given, so far, four weeks to figure out the machine they were building.

It was unlikely that he would have any headway on it. Seeing that for one, he wasn't the one who built it; in fact, Shockwave had been the one to do that, and now he was dead. For two, the mech was a medic, and besides liking the more gruesome side of science, such as dissecting a mech - and threatening to do so when angered. He was not, in any particular way, inclined toward understanding the mechanicals of unliving science.

"Knockout," Barricade walked in to the medical bay, in time to see their medic searing up a torn ligament on one of their expendable soldiers, again. He was also, known from time to time, to be a bit, uncaring about how he patched someone up. The mech he'd been working on squirmed when he looked up, his torch, whether medical grade or not, Barricade did not know, hinging off of the wound.

"Barricade, do you need any assistance?" His own servo switched back into five digits and he quickly swiped the injured mech off the medical table. "I'll be happy to patch you up." The grin was more devilish than Megatrons. He knew the mechs plan, as he always did, seeing that they, themselves, were at their own little war. Anger was neither's strongest suits when coordinating within a group.

"I'm not coming here for me, Knockout," Barricade snarled, glaring down the mechs one good eye. Of all things that had to be the worst trait, it was how well he was at letting his own self degrade. He'd once cared about his looks, then he got smashed in the head with a grenade and since then, his CPU units were always on the fritz. The back of his head was now a patched up, mangled mess of wires that, if one stood around long enough, they could actually see sparking. "Megatron had requested your service. He wants an update on the progress of the machine."

"That ratted old device Shockwave dug out of the pits of his unhinged mind?" Knockout snarked. "It's been sitting in the back collecting rust."

Barricade took a step forward, stress heaving through his chestplates. "You mean to tell me, that you have not even touched the machine?"

"I have," Knockout organized his tools, daring not to stare up. "Only enough to know that Shockwave was a mad scientist who was angered no one cared to honestly recognize him. I do believe that his machine was more built out of spite than actual intelligence."

"Megatron will not be pleased, and because of you, I will have to rearrange my whole framing again."

"Don't worry your dainty little servos," Knockout detested, waving him off. "The machine was also, despite Shockwaves inability to function sometimes, extremely well built. It's ready for whenever you get that last 'tool', of course, unless you've gotten that already?" He raised an optic ridge.

"Do not mock me, Knockout, or the framing that will need rearranging will be yours." He snared a finger up toward Knockouts good optic.

"You are hardly one to follow through on your plans. After all, you let a scout defeat you, was it, twice?"

Barricade curled his digits in, snarling. "I would suggest you retreat to Megatron before he comes to you. And it would be unwise to let him sit even more unsettled in his thoughts."

"You are a bot of much wisdom, Barricade," Knockout bowed sarcastically, turning away from Barricade and out of the room. "I'll warn you if our lord and master has decided to switch the position of your doors. A head start on escaping, after all, is your specialty, is it not?" He disappeared with a cackle.

Rolling his shoulder plates, Barricade snarled. He'd been on earth longer, recruited as the Second in Command, and still, he found no respect from his lower teammates. No wonder Starscream was also so insane, the mech could never find an ounce of respect wherever he went. Megatron was the leader, and he himself, was the one reigning in the circus.

"Default!" Barricade screamed through his comm.. From the other side, he could hear the mech scuffling around, it wasn't unusual to have him never turning off his own comm. system. It was, although, extremely uncomfortable when one reached his frequency and they could hear him mumbling to himself as if he were a lunatic. For being a specialist in earth sciences, it was expected, but Barricade found that the mech was far past that, indeed, he was more of an insanity plea waiting to happen.

"B-Barricade, what can I do you for?" Default bumbled.

"Have you gotten any closer to find the quardinates of our tool?"

"No, but I'm getting close. I suspect that it's somewhere with the Autobots. But, when it leaves their base, and out of range of their protective shield, you can bet that we will be able to instantly find it and snatch it."

"Good, something good to bring to Megatron. Gather your information, you're coming with me."

"M-me?" Something clattered in the background.

"Yes, you," Barricade snarled. "You got us into this mess, and I won't be taking another unwilling fall for you. Now gather yourself and meet me outside the main hall, when Knockout is finished, we'll give what you've found to Megatron."

"It's hardly anything. . ."

"It's enough to keep the brute off our backs. . . For now." Barricade stormed out of the medical bay. He was going to find their tool, no matter the cost, of his fellow Decepticons, of course.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Drift

 **ENJOY!**

* * *

Breann peaked from behind Ultra Magnus. The mech, somehow, seemingly had some sort of growth spurt overnight. That, or she felt even more intimidated by him. He wasn't exactly the pinnacle of kindness and mercy.

From the moment he'd awoken her abruptly, he'd kept her in eye shot. Even her tries to talk to anyone else was met with a swift and abrupt scoff from him, rendering her silent.

She could barely even open her mouth toward him without getting a glare. She'd found it easier - after hours of walking through random, boring daily duties - that crossing her arms and looking down was the best bet to make the day go by faster.

From watching the movies, Optimus looked as if his job were exciting. Training his soldiers, talking serious talks to governmental officials. Training himself and throwing down some moves that even an older soldier like him could do.

But no.

It was nothing but walking from room to room. Having discussions about missions of the past, present, and future. It was making sure everything was running smoothly, reading over files, signing names, making dry jokes with others that were as humorous. It was stopping at every lazy individual and telling them to keep on working, then going into another room to talk about some random, boring thing that was going on in some random, boring place.

So far, the most interesting any of the rooms held, was how well the government was taking the re-transitioning of the Autobots back into society.

No mention of the Decepticons.

Not even a word about Optimus himself.

It was as if he never existed in the first place.

"Whoa, hey," Lennox raised his arm, stopping the both of them in their tracks as they entered another meeting room. "She's not authorized for this room."

Breann looked inside as best she could. From what she could see, red lights flared and there was a big screen with a picture of some kind of large, opened pod.

"Is that a space ship wreck?" Breann pushed past Ultra Magnus, her excitement bubbling.

"Lennox is right," Magnus gruffed, gripping her shoulder with enough force that she was sure he'd dented her metal. "You are not allowed in here." He looked around, turning with a loud 'ah'. "Crosshairs, I need you to look after her," He shoved her away from the room and toward the mech.

Crossing his arms, Crosshairs snuffed. "I ain't babysittin' a former fleshbag. Who knows what diseases she could have."

Breann scoffed. "I don't have diseases. I am not an animal!"

Crosshairs raised his arms and walked off, mumbling something about babysitting and how he wasn't paid enough for it all.

"I'm not leaving her alone," Mangus gruffed. "I don't trust anything about you."

"So," Breann took a step forward. "I can come in?"

"Hardly likely," Lennox folded his arms. "Some of the Autobots are barely clearanced to come in here. I'm not about to let you in, I'm sorry, but I'm with Ultra Magnus on this one. As much as I want to trust you more than him, I can't just let you waltz into an important meeting without having your clearanced as a trustworthy individual."

Mangus nodded his head stiffly. "Drift will be coming to watch you. Wait out here, and don't run off. He will not hesitate to tell me, and I will not hesitate to throw you back down into our cells."

"I'm not-" He glared down at her, that intimidating and now quite frankly, annoying glare. Raising her arms in submission, he looked at Lennox and they both walked into room, disappearing behind a thick metal door.

Falling back against the wall with a heave, she scooted down until she was sitting. Her mouth moved without sound, mocking the mechs words. She always known he was a hard aft, but honestly, he was taking things too far.

"It took me quite a long time to accept Ultra Magnus," A voice rang from above her. "He too, treated me like a criminal, even now it seems I must still work for his trust."

She looked up to see Drift, standing above her. He stood tall and regal, looking both calm and ready to fight. "He's a brute with an attitude," She pressed her arms closer to her chest.

"He's cautious. I'm sure you heard the story," He leaned his hand out to her and she glared at it. Softening her gaze, she took it and he lifted her to her feet.

"Ya, I heard it," She snuffed, brushing off herself out of pure thought. "And I believe it. But I also think he's being over possessive about something that happened so long ago."

Drift cocked an optic ridge, giving her a long hard look. Softening, he smiled. "I'll let him tell you the full story, after all, one can never understand another until they understand where they come from."

"But I already heard the story, I told you," She followed him as he began walking off.

"Yes," He nodded. "But you didn't hear his story. It's one thing to hear a story from someone who wasn't there, let along truly experienced it. But hearing it from someone who lived through that pain. . . That's where true understanding for another comes from."

"Is that how he trusted you?" She peaked her gaze up. "Y'know, after you went from Deadlock to Drift."

Drift stopped in his tracks, his shoulders faltering from their upright position. He looked ready to say something, of what nature, she couldn't tell - but the glint his optic told her wasn't good.

She could hear him stretching in a long breath, then let it out as slow as he could. "Every story is different. Some follow a straight path, others. . . Fall for a while." He turned toward her. "I earned his trust through hard work and dedication to the Autobot cause. It took millennials, but even now he still keeps a weary eye on me."

"If Optimus were here I'm sure he wouldn't allow this."

"Yes," Drift continued walking, his shoulders lifting up again. "He would be more merciful and understanding. But do not accept Optimus as for what it seems you have seen from where you have come from. Already I have learned that you are ignorant, in truth. What you saw was glimpses into our lives, but you do not fully understand our real lives."

"I know you come from Cybertron, how the war started, and honestly, I've read and seen so much, I could probably tell you how it's going to end."

"Knowledge isn't always wisdom." Drift made an abrupt turn, heading outside. She followed close behind. "You may know a lot about us through what you learned, in a world where we were fiction. But in this world, where we are as real as the sun and this very planet we stand on. You are in a world where war is real, our war, and we do not take it lightly. We fight, we die, that has been our cycle for eons, and always will be until the war ends. Even if you did know how it ended, you cannot functionally know all the events that will lead to the ending."

"Well. . . I. . ." Breann snapped her mouth shut. He was right. She did know many things, but she didn't know everything. Nothing here was predictable. This wasn't fanfiction, or a rerun. This was actual reality, that she couldn't manipulate. Whatever she used to think, it had to be tossed down the drain. She was now standing in the middle of a war, one where she couldn't deflect a bomb with an amazing, automatic shield she didn't know she had.

She gulped. For all she knew, her death would be soon and imminent.

Pushing back the depressing thoughts, she looked over to Drift. "So. . . Why are we out here?"

He unsheaved a sword from his hilt and she stumbled back. "If you are going to be in the middle our war, it is best you know how to defend yourself." He held out the sword, the handle facing her.

Her head reared back and she scrunched her optics. "I can't. . . I've never used a sword before."

"Then I suggest you learn before the world ages and withers away." She grabbed the hilt and guffed when he let go and her arms were thunked to the ground. The sword was heavier than it looked, and it had looked heavy.

"This is like holding a whole planet."

"Nothing starts out easy," He grabbed for his second sword and twirled it in his servo like it were an extra long feather in his hand. Readying a stance, he positioned his sword toward her, ready to attack. "I will give you five minutes you lift up your sword, and then we will begin."

"You'll kill me," She scoffed, grunting under the weight.

"Not if you learn to defend yourself."

In that moment, Breann realized that now, more than ever, she wanted to be glued to Ultra Magnus's side. So what he was boring, that all the did was walk and talk, but not to her. At least he didn't threaten to kill her, the worst from him was tossing her back into her cell.

Taking in a deep breath, she tried lifting the sword. She'd thought at least, that by gaining a Cybertronian body, she'd gain their strength. Though it seemed that her human strength followed to her new body. And before, she hadn't been exactly known for her strength, or even ounce of muscle.

Drift threw down his sword near her and she screamed, her arms throwing her own weapon up. She kept as strong as hold as she could on it, feeling as it tilted back, taking her with it. "I thought you were giving me five minutes."

"A Decepticon will not give you time. If they see a moment to strike, they will go in for a kill."

"But you're not Decepticon!" She forced herself upright, scared, but a little bit proud that the weapon was now off the ground. Though, she had to attribute that to pure adrenaline.

"I am not," He swerved the sword around, coming close to slicing her. "But think of me as a simulation. One cannot learn if they are given pure mercy."

Most of her was screaming at her to book it, do anything other than fight and get herself killed. "Alright, Drift," She forced her arms to move the sword enough that she knew she had enough grip to swing it. "But if I die, I swear I will come back from the grave and haunt you until you die."


End file.
